


Float Like a Butterfly & Sting Like a Bee

by crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird/pseuds/crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird
Summary: Sansa gets offered a job opportunity to fake date a famous racecar driver whose reputation has recently plummeted; his manager believes a romantic interest will gain him some good publicity for a change.Their relationship starts off rocky and slowly grows from there. Will they find real feelings in amongst all the acting?
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 83
Kudos: 100





	1. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super excited about this story.
> 
> I wanted to wait a bit longer and write a few more chapters before posting this story, but I know I haven't updated in a couple of weeks, so I decided to give you guys this.
> 
> The first handful of chapters, at least, will be updated consistently as they are already written :)) Enjoy!

Sansa groaned in frustration as she marched from the building.

‘ _I'll hire you as my bartender.'_ He had laughed down at her; a stuck up man who thought himself superior over others. Especially women. _‘You just don't have the eye of an artist, I'm afraid. But don't parish. That body could get many jobs.’_

She had slapped him then, and stormed from the room. Although he _was_ a complete _wanker_ … the fact remains that he _is_ a very successful owner of this very prestigious art gallery and therefore she picked up her pace, fleeing from the office where she just struck the man; fleeing from the scene of the crime. The last thing she needed to deal with was a lawsuit.

She sighed in relief when fresh air filled her lungs, making her red hot anger subside for a moment. She sat down on the closest bench to right herself. She needed that job. She needed that money.

“Excuse me, miss!”

Her breath caught in her throat as she wiped her head around to find the voice in question.

A tall blond haired woman was approaching her at a brisk pace. She was wearing a very expensive looking dress which was a deep blue and stopped just below her knees. Sansa came to the conclusion that it didn't look as if she was coming to yell at her for her behaviour; she nodded in her direction and the woman sat down beside her.

“Hello, I'm Margaery Tyrell. I'm sorry but I couldn't help but notice you seemed to be looking for a job.” She held her hand out towards her and blinked expectantly.

“Sansa Stark.” She replied, shaking her hand. "And yes, actually… I do in fact need a job…" She supplied, wondering what this beautiful woman had to offer her.

She smiled in return and dropped her hand. “Do you happen to know who Petyr Baelish is?”

Sansa frowned in confusion. "Yes, of course." She replied without giving it a second thought. Petyr Baelish was all anyone could talk about for months at the beginning of the year. He was a race car driver… not only that… a _Nascar racer_. There was a bunch of talk about his involvement in drug running or something or the sort before he was taken off the track in an ambulance. He had crashed pretty badly last year… it was all over every talk show and tabloid imaginable.

"And I'm guessing by the look on your face, that you know about all the bad publicity he's gotten this past year?" She questioned and Sansa slowly nodded. "Yes well… I have a business proposition for you, if you're interested?"

Sansa's frown deepened. "Interested in what, exactly?" Sansa asked to clarify and the woman, Margaery, looked down at the ground for a moment, as if she didn't want to elaborate.

"How about we meet for coffee tomorrow morning… I can bring Petyr and we can propose this agreement to you properly?" Margaery asked as she pushed her hair behind one shoulder and then reached inside the front of her shirt and pulled out a business card.

Sansa accepted the card with a slightly agape jaw. _I can bring Petyr..._

_Margaery Tyrell_

_Manager of Petyr Baelish,_

_Nascar Racer._

"Wait, _bring_ Petyr Baelish?" Sansa questioned with a raise of her eyebrows. The woman smiled charmingly.

"The job would involve interacting with him, so I figured you should at least meet him before making any decisions." She explained, expression going slightly grim as she slid closer, voice lowering. "He's a little hard to get to know now… just to warn you. Don't go into the meeting picturing the sweet man he used to be before the crash."

Sansa nodded, thinking back to the interviews she'd seen of him last year. Such a happy man, always so charming and nice. He was known for not only being a very talented racer, but being extremely generous as well. He won countless times, everytime giving his wins to different organizations in need. He was so loved by so many… he had the biggest following the world has ever seen from a Nascar racer; it was as if he were a famous actor or singer.

It would be sad if the crash changed him so much.

If she could recall, the crash was very _very_ bad.

"Alright." Sansa started slowly, wondering what this job offer could possibly entail.

The God's knew she had _no_ idea what she was getting herself into.

* * *

Little Dawn's was a cute, but overly expensive coffee shop down the street from her apartment. Sansa had been there only once before on a blind date her friend hooked her up with. The date had gone terribly, Sansa remembered.

The streets of King's Landing were busy. People rushing to get to work and meetings and appointments of all sorts. She, Sansa supposed, was one of them.

She pushed open the door, a tiny bell above her head signalled her arrival and a tall skinny woman behind the counter flashed her a welcoming smile. Sansa returned it before scanning the shop for Margaery and -she fought down her excitement- Petyr _fucking_ Baelish.

In the corner of her eye, she spied movement and turned to see the blonde beauty waving her over. Petyr sat in a booth with a pair of sunglasses on and his back to her. He was clad in a dark pair of jeans -which Sansa immediately thought were too hot for King's Landing- and a black T-shirt.

She approached the table cautiously, hyper aware of the way she was dressed. It was hot today, so the tight skirt seemed like the better of her two options when she was deciding this morning, but she now felt like her white blouse was too professional-looking… he was dressed so casual.

"Sansa!" The woman stood to greet her but Petyr Baelish remained seated, barely glancing up. "Here, please sit." She gestured to the place she had previously been seated before sitting herself beside the man of the hour.

Sansa sat, slowly letting her eyes move over to him.

He wasn't looking at her. He was looking out the window, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. Everything about his expression and body language screamed _bored!_

He was just as attractive as she thought he'd be, but without the charming smile and smooth words, like -despite Margaery's warning- she pictured.

"Sansa Stark, this is Petyr Baelish. Petyr, Sansa." Margaery introduced as she adjusted the briefcase in her hand before setting it down between her and the man adamantly staring out the window at nothing in particular.

"Hello…" Sansa said quietly, feeling overly self-conscious and shy. His jaw tightened for a moment before relaxing again.

"Petyr we talked about this." Margaery scolded, smiling apologetically at Sansa.

"It's fucking stupid, Margaery." He said, surprising Sansa.

"Can you think of a better way to improve your reputation?" She snapped and he sighed deeply through his nose.

Slowly the glasses were taken off and a striking pair of grey-green eyes sought hers. They were far from welcoming, in fact they made Sansa want to curl up in a ball. Soon she couldn't take the scrutiny any longer and she dropped her gaze.

"So this is the one, huh?" He asked, addressing Margaery but keeping his gaze set on her.

"Yes, Baelish, this is the one." Margaery said sternly, narrowing her eyes on him in a silent warning. He sighed again, folding his glasses and hanging them on the front of his shirt.

"Fine." He muttered, looking away from her to look over at Margaery, who smiled and clapped her hands together.

"Fantastic. So," She started, looking at Sansa who had finally found the courage to look up at the two of them again. "Before we speak, I'd like you to sign a non-disclosure agreement for me." She lifted her briefcase and clicked it open, retrieving a file with _Stark, Sansa_ written on the top of it. She opened it and pulled out the first sheet on top, sliding both it and a pen towards her.

"It's just so I know that no matter how you respond to my -our- job offer… you won't be going and telling people about it. No one can know about this conversation except the three of us here. Understood?" Margaery was all business now and Sansa slowly nodded, scanning over the document before picking up the pen and signing.

Margaery reached for the document and looked over her signature before nodding and carefully placing it back in the file.

"Okay, so down to business now." She said as the waitress arrived with a cup of coffee for everyone. Petyr Baelish drank his black while Margaery started adding sugar and cream while she spoke. Sansa just sat in surprise as she listened.

"So, unfortunately Petyr's reputation went downhill after the accident-"

"-it _wasn't_ an accident."

Sansa turned to look at the man sitting across from her in question. His jaw clenched tightly and Margaery rolled her eyes. Was he talking about the crash?

"The _incident."_ She corrected herself, moistening her lips before continuing. "He's in need of some _good_ publicity… something the press will jump at the chance to latch onto… and what's better than a love story to get his name out there again?" She asked rhetorically and Sansa frowned. Love story? _What was she talking about?_

"So I was thinking…"

"-It's ridiculous." He interrupted again, but Margaery ignored him completely.

"I was thinking I could hire someone to act as his new romantic interest." She finally finished and Sansa's frown deepened.

"I don't understand." She responded, watching as Petyr rolled his eyes and looked out the window again.

"Everyone loves a good Hollywood romance. To have the press focused on something _good_ instead of…" She trailed off, chancing a glance at Petyr, who huffed and shook his head. "He needs something to boost his reputation. Something _pretty_ definitely doesn't hurt."

Sansa felt like she should be offended by such a comment, but the way it was delivered made Sansa feel the woman meant no offense. His reputation needed something good, someone _pretty._ That's where -Sansa assumed- that she came into play.

"All you'd have to do is go to a few photoshoots that I'll be staging to make it look like a secret romance caught on camera. After that, there will be some interviews and other such press events he will need to attend that you will go to with him as his… girlfriend. Or partner, or… whatever you two wish to call it." Sansa felt herself blushing from embarrassment, not able to meet the grey-green eyes staring at her now. "There may be a few more things that come up… all of which are open for discussion if there's something you don't feel comfortable with."

With that, something immediately popped into her head and she started talking before she even had the chance to register what she was blurting out.

"And I… I'm not expected to, you know… uhm… _we_ aren't expected to-"

"Oh, gosh no!" Margaery interrupted and Petyr barked a laugh, making Sansa blush fiercely. "I may ask you to stay at his place here and there because paparazzi can be a little crazy now a days, and possibly a kiss when the two of you are in public… but nothing more than that."

Sansa nodded. She could deal with that. A kiss. In fact, the idea of it made her tummy flutter… though it shouldn't… Petyr Baelish was quite the asshole.

"Well…" Petyr smirked to himself. "We could always add it into the contract if you'd like."

Sansa's eyes widened and she immediately looked to Margaery for the answer to such a comment. The woman looked more than unimpressed as she swatted his shoulder. "Petyr has a dry sense of humor. Just ignore him. It's a great job offer and it wouldn't require anything remotely close to _that."_

"You would get paid handsomely for it, too." Margaery quickly added, opening the file once again to slide a small package of stapled paper towards her. This document contained numbers that made her head hurt. She _would_ get paid handsomely for it.

Next was a contract that Margaery slid over to her. "If you need time to think it over… I can give you a few days but we need to get this project started sooner than later."

"Uhm… I don't need a few days, but if you don't mind, I'd like to get some fresh air and think on it for a moment." Sansa asked and Margaery smiled, nodding as she drank back more of her coffee.

"Of course, dear."

Sansa took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she listened to the cars whizz by her.

It was a big decision. The job itself seemed manageable… it seemed like a pretty great opportunity, except that she'd have to deal with tabloids and paparazzi and _fans_ . She would have to lie to both her friends _and_ her family. Her love life would be on pause for months.

Sansa immediately scolded herself for not asking how long that contract lasted; next thing she knows, she'll be signing her life away for years.

But the truth still remained… she _needs_ a job. And she needs one fast unless she wants to move back to Winterfell and live with her parents. No, she couldn't go back… though she had to admit that she missed the ranch.

 _"Ah,_ fresh air."

Sansa turned sharply at the sound of Petyr Baelish's deep irish brogue.

He was leaning against the window of the cafe they had both just came from with a cigarette between his lips. He closed his eyes dramatically as he breathed in the nicotine.

"Nothing quite like it." He added, obviously attempting to make conversation with her. "Do you smoke?" He asked, offering his pack. She declined and he stuffed it back in his pocket. He adjusted the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he looked around.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." He told her, smoke billowing from his lips. "It seems all glamorous for a time, but I assure you, it gets old very quickly."

Sansa swallowed down the lump in her throat and adjusted her skirt nervously. She caught him staring at her bare legs for a brief second before he looked forward again. _Was he checking her out?_

"It's not ideal, but I need the job." She replied, feeling embarrassed about being so broke in the presence of someone as rich as him.

She could feel his eyes on her, so she turned to look at him and sure enough… he was watching her curiously.

"There are other ways to make money, Sweetling. You can't back out of this once you sign that form." He warned her, finishing off his cigarette before letting the rest of it fall to the floor and get crushed under his shoe.

 _Sweetling_.

Something in the way he said it caught her attention.

"You don't want me to take the job?" She questioned and he sighed, crossing his arms and looking over at her.

"If you take the job, I don't have to come to another pointless meeting such as this and listen to Margaery persuade some other pretty girl." He explained harshly. Sansa scrunched up her nose as she moved a step closer to him in order to avoid the family trying to squeeze past her and into the cafe. "I just want you to understand what you're getting involved in."

It was clear that if she asked him… he would strongly advise against taking the job. But something in that made her want to take the job. She needed the money and despite having to be in _his_ presence for long periods of time… it seemed like a pretty good gig.

"I think I've had enough fresh air." She said aloud, spinning around and entering the cafe again. Margaery was on the phone, but quickly hung up at the sight of the two of them coming inside together.

"How long does this contract last?" She asked, sliding into the booth again and flipping through the pages.

"We can discuss that at a later time. A few months, I would guess. It's more of a feeling than a set date. It'll depend on how the media handles the two of you and if people like it or not." Margaery explained and Petyr watched her intently as she made her decision.

She signed it almost hastily, not wanting to change her mind again, and slid the package back over to his manager. She smiled wide and stored the papers away again.

"Perfect!" She exclaimed. "I suppose your little love affair is official now."

Sansa's eyes travelled slowly to him. He was tapping his fingers against the half full cup of coffee as he watched her with an unreadable expression. Was he happy? Annoyed? Disappointed? Why did she care what he thought, anyways?

"If I could have your phone number, I'll send you messages and addresses for each meeting as well as details on how to dress and what we'll be doing." She explained quickly, glancing down at her watch.

Sansa provided Margaery with the necessary information before she nudged Petyr and stood. He copied her actions, reaching into his back pocket for some cash and leaving it on the table.

"It's been lovely speaking to you, Sansa, but I'm afraid Petyr has his physiotherapy in a half hour and I don't intend on letting him piss off this one too." She explained as she collected her things and offered Sansa her hand to shake.

"I don't need a physiotherapist anymore." He grumbled beside her, refusing to shake Sansa's offered hand. Colour rose to her cheeks before she dropped her hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear instead. Clearly physiotherapy was an off-limits topic.

"You do if you ever want to race again, Petyr, and you know that." She told him sternly with a certain amount of scolding in her voice. He sighed, moving around Margaery to head for the door. The woman smiled, for seemingly the hundredth time, in apology before leaving Sansa standing by herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who has watched We Bought A Zoo (a favourite of mine) will recognize the name of the coffee shop!


	2. The First Glimpse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy another chapter!

It was two days later when Sansa found herself pulling into Petyr _fucking_ Baelish's driveway.

His home was _beautiful._ His driveway was a dirt road stretching a few hundred meters long with old oak trees lining the sides. His neighbors had to be _miles_ away. The house itself was huge… bricks were the colour of sand with dark accents and a large mahogany door. Windows were large and in abundance. The road went around the house, so Sansa assumed his garage was in the back. Two cars parked in the semi circle at the front of his house and, assuming one was Margaery's, she parked alongside them.

She felt a little intimidated as she left her Toyota Corolla in his driveway and approached his door. There was gorgeous, lavish gardens around his house and she admired them before knocking.

She looked down at herself, adjusting the dress she wore to sit better over her shoulders. Margaery had told her to wear a summery dress but didn't specify any further, so Sansa had chosen a light blue one with a halter-strap neckline. It hugged her curves, flowing down prettily past her hips and knees. Her auburn hair flowed in loose curls down her back. She hardly ever wore makeup, so she decided to bypass it today as well.

Soon enough she was pulled from her insecurities when the door opened. It was Petyr on the other side and he looked striking in his long dark jeans and white Polo shirt. The shirt was tucked in and the collar folded neatly around his neck, the same pair of sunglasses from the other day hung off the shirt. He had a Hublot watch on as well as a turquoise talon ring on his right hand.

"Uh, hi." Sansa smiled nervously but he didn't return it, just gestured for her to come in before shutting the door behind her.

The inside of his house was even more beautiful than the outside. Dark hardwood floors, marble kitchens and grand stone fireplaces. It was rustic with wooden beams across the roof, but also sleek in appearance; clean and neat.

"You can keep your shoes…" He started to tell her but trailed off as he looked down at her white high-top converse and smirked in amusement. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "...on." He finished, looking back up at her with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged. "What? They are comfortable."

He cleared his throat to hide a chuckle as he spun around and walked away. _Prick._

She followed him through the maze of a house until they reached what she assumed was the door to the garage. Margaery and a young man -probably a few years younger than Sansa herself- was tinkering with a large camera and other related equipment Sansa didn't know the name of.

"Oh, Miss Stark you're early! Good good, we can get going as soon as Jojen finishes up." Margaery told her, hands placed firmly on her hips. Sansa admired the light grey one piece she had on matching small grey heels, feeling suddenly self conscious about her converse.

The young blonde smiled up at her kindly before looking back down at the camera lens he was twisting into place on a large Canon camera.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Irish brogue drifted to her ears from her right side.

It took Sansa a moment to realize it was her he was offering a drink to. She turned to face him, ignoring the way her tummy fluttered at the sight of him leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed.

"Yes, Please." She replied quietly and he gestured with his head for her to follow him into the kitchen, which matched the rest of the house in it's polished appearance.

"What would you like? I have just about everything." He said in a somewhat boring tone of voice. Sansa sat herself atop one of the barstools and swiveled it back and forth slightly.

"Just water would be great, thank you."

"So polite." He teased as he reached for a glass in the cupboard. She ignored his jape and returned to look out the window at the backyard instead. Dark green grass stretched almost as far as she could see before stopping at the treeline surrounding the house. There was a huge pool off to the left and a large fire pit and dining area to the right. There also looked to be a pond near the treeline but it was hard to see so far from where she sat.

A glass of water slid to rest in front of her and she thanked him again before drinking it down… she really was quite thirsty. He had some water of his own resting between his hands as he leaned against the island, watching her. He always seemed to be watching.

"Alright you two, lets go!" Margaery called and Petyr gulped the rest of his water before he cleaned up their glasses and led her back to the garage door.

"So, we'd like to create as much attention as possible with the two of you. In saying that, I think it would be better if Sansa was just some mysterious woman you're seeing that no one knows the identity of." She smirked. "It'll drive them crazy and Petyr… unfortunately the paparazzi will probably take to following you everywhere again to try and catch you two together."

Petyr groaned in annoyance beside her. Margaery shrugged. "That's what you get for fame, kid."

"I'm older than you." He pointed out but she ignored him entirely.

"So what's going to happen is…" Margaery looked at her watch. "Jojen and I are going to go set up the camera somewhere on the way to the falls. Just drive up to the lookout point and keep your phone on you… I'll be sending you instructions when you two get up there." She explained and they both nodded. "Jojen has graciously agreed to put a picture and headline of my choosing on the newest tabloid… so…" She smiled in excitement. "I'm going to introduce you two to the world!"

Petyr didn't share in her excitement, but listened to her instructions nonetheless. Jojen and Margaery left towards the front door as Petyr led her into the garage. And _holy shit_ the garage was the size of an ordinary house on it's own.

"Whoa…" She breathed, taking in all the expensive cars. Half the garage was full of various race cars, one of which he seemed to be fixing up as it was out of its normal parking spot and littered with tools and parts. The other half of the garage held such glamorous vehicles: 2 motorbikes, one of which she could see was a Harley Davidson… the other she had no idea. There was a grey old school Jaguar, complete with a racing number on either side and everything, and another one with a deep green paint job. An Aston Martin that looked _just_ like the James Bond car, Sansa thought. A bright orange Ferrari, though she wasn't sure what version. And finally, a matte black Lamborghini.

He chuckled lightly as he switched on the light and spun around to look at the array of keys hanging on the wall. "If it isn't obvious… I like cars." He joked, plucking a set of keys and spinning back around to watch as she inspected each vehicle he owned.

There had to be over a dozen vehicles here when the race cars were included. Sansa wasn't quite sure why she was surprised… he was a _racer._ Of course he'd spend so much money on his passion. Maybe it was the fact that he had so much money to begin with… but then she remembered reading about how his father was also an accomplished Nascar racer in his days… even more so than Petyr, which was hard to beat.

He walked over to the deep green old school Jag as he unfolded his sunglasses and put them on. He unlocked his door before jumping in and unlocking the passenger's side as well. Sansa wasn't even paying attention, too focused on one race car in particular. It looked far too much like the one her brother used to own. She reached out to touch it but his voice made her jump away from the vehicle as if it had burned her finger tips.

"Coming?" He called as he turned the key and the engine began to purr.

Sansa swallowed thickly, blinking back her pain as she remembered her brother. She crossed the room and pulled open the door, careful not to scratch the other car, and hopped inside.

"You okay?" He asked carefully, eyebrows drawn together. She nodded mutely so he shifted the stick in drive and they took off, one of the large garage doors opening and closing behind them.

The car was incredible. Sansa didn't know much about vehicles at all… just some things from when Robb was into car racing. She was also pretty good at identifying cars, well… better than most, for she and her father used to try and guess the make of every car they would see; an old game they used to play. In saying that… even though she didn't know much… she knew this one in particular was a beauty.

It was a warm evening in King's Landing and it made the breeze she felt flowing through her hair and across her skin, feel wonderful.

Sansa guessed that Margaery had planned on doing this specifically at this time so they could get pictures with the sunset -or watching the sunset- as Margaery had mentioned a 'look out' point, for the sun had begun to set and the sky was cast a soft orange.

Sansa let her hand trace through the air as she whizzed by in Petyr _fucking_ Baelish's old fashioned car. What the hell was her life?

"You have a beautiful smile."

Sansa turned her head towards the voice intruding her thoughts. His eyes were looking straight ahead, but a gentle smirk graced his lips. Her wide smile faltered for a moment before returning full force as she blushed. She hadn't even realized she'd been smiling, let alone that he'd been watching.

He chuckled, turning his head quickly between her and the road, flashing her a charming grin. _There's that charm he used to dazzle the world with._

He teased her with either _"gotcha"_ or _"caught ya"_ , but she wasn't sure which one over the roar or the engine and the crashing of waves nearby. But either way it didn't matter, for it meant the same thing and she felt her cheeks heat further.

He wasn't so bad _all_ the time. Just most of it.

Soon they arrived at their destination and he put the car in park. No one else was there, but Petyr made sure to take a thorough look around before taking off his sunglasses and getting out.

Sansa followed his lead and copied him as he walked around the front of the car and leaned against the hood. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and checked the few messages he had, seemingly all from his manger.

"She _-ah-_ wants us to move closer together." He said quietly and she bit her bottom lip hard, trying not to show her embarrassment -and eagerness- to follow Margaery's instructions.

He put his phone face up on the hood of the car and slid closer to her, his side pressing against hers. He was leaning back with his hands bracing himself on either side of his body on the car, one of them inevitably behind her because of their close proximity to one another.

"I _do_ like your shoes." He said after a moment and she flushed, frowning slightly.

"You don't have to be rude, y'know?" She snapped back at him, feeling beyond embarrassed about such a small thing. "Margaery didn't specify what she wanted me to wear on my feet and not everyone has millions of dollars at their exposal to buy all sorts of-" She stopped at the sound of him laughing. She huffed, crossing her arms. "And you know what? They're comfortable!"

His hands rose in surrender as he tried -and failed- to hold back a smirk. "I was being genuine, sweetling." He chuckled, hands falling down to his sides again. "I'm a converse guy myself. I have about _a million_ pairs." He joked, extenuating _million_ because of her earlier jape about his money.

Her eyes dropped to the stoney terrain, embarrassed and flustered. "Sorry…" She mumbled. He shifted closer, catching her eye again as he smiled, this time it seemed genuine: a real smile.

"No need to apologize, sweetling." He told her, looking back out at the sea. The salt water was fresh and Sansa breathed it in greedily. "I deserve to be told off."

Sansa felt herself smile but tried to hide it. Yes, he _did_ deserve to be told off.

His cell phone started ringing, Margaery's name lighting up the screen. He sighed before answering. All he responded with to whatever she said was _"okay"_ before hanging up.

"She said they got the picture they wanted and that we can go back now." He told her, distancing himself from her as he entered the Jag again and started the engine. She followed suit, sliding into the car and pulling on her seatbelt.

The drive was quiet, but comfortably so. She admired the last views of the fading sunset as they drove and enjoyed the sounds around her. He lived around such peace and tranquil… it didn't even seem like they were in King's Landing at all. It felt like home. It felt like Winterfell.

Winterfell, despite the name, was almost the same temperature as King's Landing at this time of the year; only slightly cooler. It was a gorgeous stretch of land with very few residents… just the way her family has always preferred it.

A part of her thought it was curious that out of all the celebrities that could hire her for this job… out of all the professions Petyr Baelish could have chosen… it was the very same one that Robb used to love before he passed. Her heart ached at the thought of it before she suppressed it again, like she always does.

They arrived at his place shortly after, a large gate swung open with a code he punched in. It had opened for Sansa immediately when she arrived earlier and she wondered if perhaps he was watching the security camera or something.

They parked in the garage again with all his other cars and he hung the keys back where he found them as they passed through the door.

"Margaery wants me to go to this big charity event next month with you." His voice was quiet but it caught her attention either way. "It's a huge fundraiser for a charity that I regularly gave my winnings to." He elaborated as they made their way to the living room. He sat down on the leather couch and gestured for her to do the same; she did. "Back when I was allowed to race, that is."

She turned to look at him. He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he looked down at the hardwood floor. It was like he was embarrassed to open up. Embarrassed to be a nice guy. Embarrassed to show any piece of himself.

"Why can't you?" She heard herself ask him cautiously, hoping he wouldn't close up and lash out.

He sighed deeply, eyes shifting from side to side as if contemplating what to tell her. "It's my therapist. He has to clear me for racing. Apparently I'm not ready yet." He reached up with one hand to scratch the stubble at the side of his jaw. "It's my physical as well… I'm almost completely healed but it still aches sometimes. I could live with the pain though, while I race, if my therapist let me."

Sansa nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry you can't race."

He swallowed again, licking his lips to moisten them. It was clear how important racing was to him. "It's just… it's what keeps me in check. It's the only thing that's ever _helped,_ and I haven't been able to do it for over a year." He paused. "It's so frustrating."

Sansa wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she was thankful when the front door opened and Margaery and Jojen walked through, interrupting their conversation.

"Good job you two!" She exclaimed, smiling as she tapped away at her phone. "Miss Stark, are you free tuesday evening?" The woman looked up expectantly as Sansa stood from her place on the couch. She nodded. "Good. Same time as today. I'll send the both of you details later."

With that she was gone and Jojen followed after her. She turned to look at the only other person in the room, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. If she had to guess, she would assume he felt awkward because of his previous honesty and the fact that they are now both alone again.

"Uhm… I guess I'll get going then." Sansa said aloud, but he didn't look up. She walked towards the door, turning back to look at him from across the room. "See you later."

He didn't respond, so she half-rolled her eyes and pulled open the door. It was just as she was closing it again that she heard a faint _'bye'._

* * *

The following morning Sansa found herself weaving a shopping cart through a maze of people, all of which searching for the best possible deals.

_ I just want a loaf of bread for God's sake. _

When she found what she was looking for, she placed the bread in her cart and pushed it forward without looking, smashing right into someone else's cart.

"Oi! Watch it!" The older man snapped at her and she quickly apologized, backing the cart up and pushing it hastily away from the man. Shoppers were  _ ruthless. _

She normally wasn't the kind of person to get distracted by the shelves of magazines and rows of candies, mints and gum… but the lady at the front of the line was arguing about the price of crackers with the cashier and it was taking  _ forever. _

Her eyes scanned over the sweets first, contemplating whether she should stock up on gum while it was priced cheap, but then decided against it. Her eyes wandered down to the tabloids and she scoffed as she read the first one about the latest Bachelor and how his wife left him days after the show ended.

_ How can people watch something so fake? _

Her hand immediately shot out the second her eyes landed on the next magazine.

The headline read:

_ Petyr Baelish and His New Mystery Girl! _

Sansa was surprised at how quickly the magazine spread to the grocery stores… less than a day!

The picture was actually quite beautiful: the sky was a deep orange and the entire outline of Petyr's car was seen, as was the dark outline of both their bodies huddled close together as they watched the sunset. It  _ screamed _ romance.

The two of them definitely looked the part, she'd give Margaery that much. They looked like a couple and from this picture, it seemed hard to dispute it. Though, of course, there was no proof that the man leaning against the hood of the car  _ was  _ in fact Petyr Baelish. Sansa wondered if tomorrow evening's meeting was to confirm everyone's suspicions:  _ Petyr Baelish has a girlfriend. _

She put the magazine back as the line started to move again, shaking her head slightly at herself and continuing her wait in line.

It was when two teenage girls picked up the very same magazine she had just put down and started whispering excitedly, that Sansa remembered what Petyr had told her when they first met.

_ I just want you to understand what you're getting involved in. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Petyr's character in this chapter. He has gone through a lot of pain and torment in his life and he finds it difficult to open up to anyone. He feels as if he needs to be the narcissist asshole that people have labelled him as in the last year in order to protect himself.
> 
> You'll learn more and more about his past.


	3. The First Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts in the comments about this story, please!! :))

"Can you believe Joffrey said that to me!?" Sansa's best friend Jeyne continued her rant.

Sansa was half listening as it was, especially when he phone buzzed and she looked down to see she'd been added into a group.

Hey eyebrows drew together in curiosity as she opened up that chat as well as the message sent to it.

_Margaery: This is where I'll send you both details about upcoming events and meetings. As I suspected, the media is eating up the idea of Baelish with a new girl. Tomorrow evening we will be confirming to the world that it is in fact Petyr and that he does in fact have a girlfriend. You two can figure out the details, as I will not be there tomorrow, but I'd like a picture on your Instagram Petyr. Nothing that shows her identity, but something subtle that hints at a relationship. If either of you have questions, let me know._

_"Sansa!"_

Her eyes snapped up to stare questioningly at her friend. "Wh- sorry Jeyne." She quickly apologized, realizing she had completely ignored whatever it is she'd just said in favour of reading Margaery's message.

"What is it? You seem flustered." Jeyne asked, eyes narrowing on Sansa's phone to try and read the message. Sansa turned off the screen and cleared her throat.

_Yeah, I am, because I have to spend more time alone in Petyr fucking Baelish's company._

"No, sorry. I'm fine, really." She reassured her friend as her phone buzzed again.

"Okay, well… I was just saying that-"

Sansa looked back down while her friend focused on unwrapping the foil of a candy bar as she rambled.

_Unknown Number: You know I hate social media. Can we do something else?_

That must be Petyr. She chanced a glance at Jeyne, but she was still unwrapping the chocolate, so Sansa quickly added him into her contacts.

"-and I don't understand why he even _cares._ I mean they dated for like a month last year. Why doesn't he just delete her from his life and _move on!?"_

Sansa nodded along, sometimes offering a _'mhm'_ or _'no I agree, that's awful'_ to make it seem like she gave a shit about the drama her friend was obsessing over.

Her phone buzzed twice this time.

_Margaery: No. You need to interact with fans if you want to go back to the way you were loved before, Baelish. Your fans have been loyal through this year while you were recovering… it's time to give them something in return._

_Margaery: It's not like I'm asking you to go to events yet, so enjoy this part while it lasts._

Sansa fought back a smile. She seemed to enjoy hearing Petyr get told off.

_Petyr: I will fire you one of these days._

_Margaery: Mhm._

Sansa breathed a laugh this time, seemingly catching the attention of her friend and therefore earning a smack on the arm.

"You better be talking to a guy. Otherwise it's not worth ignoring me." Jeyne declared and Sansa rolled her eyes, apologizing again before _actually_ listening to her.

* * *

Sansa hated herself a little for changing her outfit four times. Margaery wasn't going to be there and the picture he'll be putting on Instagram probably won't even be of her… so _why_ did she care what she wore?

_Because despite the fact that he's an ass… he's hot, rich and famous._

A part of her wanted to impress him… but she ended up deciding not to dress up too much to avoid embarrassing herself. She didn't want him to notice that she'd purposely dressed up… but at the same time she wanted him to notice that she looked nice. Sansa shook her head at her own thoughts as she waited for him to open the door.

She ended up in a long black pencil skirt with a dark green long sleeve shirt with buttons down to her chest. This time she wore black flats as opposed to her beloved converse. Her hair stayed down like last time as it was most comfortable like that.

The door opened to reveal Petyr, clad in black. He half smiled, showing he was in a better mood than usual, and let her inside.

"I like the skirt." Was all he said in greeting as he closed the door behind her and led her towards the living room.

"I like the goth look." She countered sarcastically, surprised when he responded with a light chuckle.

The fireplace was lit this time, creating a warm glow inside his empty house. There was also music floating through the room, but Sansa wasn't exactly sure where it was coming from.

"Vinyl." He said simply, as if reading her mind. She looked around the room again and spotted a record player spinning. "Do you listen to Bon Iver?" He asked as they sat.

Sansa shook her head, spotting the two glasses on the coffee table and a bottle of wine sitting next to them. Sansa shifted uncomfortably, not exactly knowing how to react to such a romantic atmosphere. Especially seeing as he seemed to have been the one that set it up.

"Well, he's exceptional. One of my favourites." He added, reaching for the wine bottle and holding it up. "As is this. Malbec… do you like red? If you prefer white or rosé I'd have to go down to the cellar, but I have some good ones."

_Why was he being so nice?_

"Uh, no that's okay. Red sounds good." She told him, watching as he nodded and uncorked the bottle, pouring a generous amount into both glasses.

"It's quite a dry wine, I'll warn you now. But it has such a rich, deep taste that it makes up for it. Besides, bitter isn't always bad." He told her, handing her one of the glasses. Something in the way he said that last sentence struck a chord within her. It sounded as if he meant that for more than just wine. Was that his way of telling her that he isn't _always_ bad?

Again, as if he were reading his mind, he flashed her a quick smirk before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a long sip.

"Thank you." She said quietly, holding up the wine before she copied his actions. It definitely wasn't sweet, but he was right when he said it's other qualities made up for it. It was delicious. "It's really good." She voice aloud and he nodded again.

They were quiet for an awkward pause until she placed her glass back down on the table and turned to him, trying her best to be professional.

"So what were you thinking about doing for the picture?" She asked. He licked the wine from his lips before answering.

"I'm not sure yet." He admitted. "I tried to make the room seem all romantic in hopes that inspiration will strike."

She nodded, fighting back a small blush, even though he was in no way was making it romantic for _her_.

"I was hoping maybe we could talk." He confessed and she looked up at him, confused. The corner of his mouth turned upward. "I don't really know anything about you." He continued. "I feel like, as your _boyfriend_ , I should know at least some things."

"I guess that makes sense." She agreed.

"Plus, we're going to be spending quite some time together." He swallowed thickly and Sansa looked down to watch his Adam's apple bob from the movement. "I'd like it if we could be friends."

She blinked the surprise from her eyes, waiting for him to laugh it off and make a crude joke; waiting for him to tell her he was kidding. But no, that never came. He just looked at her expectantly, looking almost a little _shy_ , even.

"Oh, I -ah- I'd like that too." She quickly reassured him. He was in the mood to share and to be sweet and she wasn't about to turn him away. "Well to start… I'm uh, 23-"

"Really?" He cut her off and she nodded. "I would have pegged you for a little older." Sansa shrugged, not knowing what to make of that comment. "Does it bother you that I'm nine years older?"

"You're only 32?" She blurted out without thinking and immediately regretted it. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he placed his hand over his heart.

"You wound me, sweetling." He said dramatically and Sansa flushed in embarrassment. "How old do I look?"

"No, no, I'm sorry. I guess it's just the grey here." She hastily added, reaching up to touch one of his silver temples. It was the first time she'd touched him since they met and something fluttered uncomfortably in her stomach at the contact. She quickly withdrew her hand when his eyes met hers again. "But I mean… the grey isn't bad at all… a lot of men look good with grey hair. Y'know, like a silver fox or whatever."

His smirk slowly grew during her rambling and when she finished, she went bright red. _I've said too much, I've said too much, I've said too much._

He chuckled. "You seem a little flustered, sweetling." He pointed out, making her blush deepen even further.

She breathed a laugh as she turned away from him, gulping back a mouthful of wine. _"Easy_ love. That's not how you drink an expensive wine." She bit her bottom lip, quietly apologizing, before going back to sipping.

"I just… I guess I thought I read something somewhere that you were older." She said and suddenly his half a smirk dropped and he looked away, his jaw set.

"The internet, you mean?" He was angry now, she could tell.

_Yes, she had googled him and read that his middle name is Alexander, his birthday is April 24th, he's 5'9 (if she remembered correctly), he has never married and has no children, his mother's name was Alayne and his father's was Alexander… both of them deceased._

Now that she thought about it… it seemed a little creepy.

She had googled that information just the other night. She was curious about him. She must have read the wrong year that he was born, though. She thought it was 1984 but it must have been 1988.

"Why talk to me at all then? You mine as well get all your information from there." He said bitterly and she cringed.

"I… I'm sorry!" She said, shifting closer so he would look at her. "I didn't mean to make you angry. I wasn't even thinking."

He just grimaced and looked down at the wine glass he had just picked up. He finished it off and placed it back down. That's when she got an idea.

"Okay, look, I understand now that it's probably super annoying to have people looking you up and getting a bunch of personal information by just the press of their finger." She paused, trying to quickly fix their frail little friendship. "Most of it is just facts too, but people probably act like they know you just because they know where you were born." He was the one to cringe this time, obviously assuming she also knows where he was born, too. After all… she _did._

_Gosh I'm just making it worse!_

"So how about this, then…" She started and he turned to look at her, eyebrows drawn together. "I'll tell you everything about me that I could possibly find out about you. That way we'll be equal."

This suggestion caught his attention, eyebrows raised in both surprise and curiosity. "Like what?" He asked and she pursed her lips in thought.

She pulled out her phone and typed his name into Google, the same information she had read about him the other night popped up and she started with the first one: "Okay, so… my birthday is October 16th, 1997."

"October baby." He thought aloud, half smirking.

She hummed in acknowledgement as she read the next line. "I grew up in Winterfell."

"I _thought_ I detected a bit of a northern accent from you." He declared, eyes smiling over at her. She smiled in return, half shrugging.

"I… am 5'8." She went onto the next line. "I'm obviously unmarried and I have no kids." She twisted her mouth at the next one: _Occupation._ "Uh… Occupation?" She thought aloud. "I am sort of an actress in a way, I suppose."

He chuckled lightly before shrugging. "Yes, I suppose you kind of are."

"We'll skip career because… I don't really have one." She told him, slightly embarrassed about that fact. "Personal life… okay, uh… I have a really large family. One sister and four -ah- _three_ brothers." She corrected herself, her eyes dropping down to look at her hands, which were now nervously ringing together.

The room suddenly felt so _quiet_ , the air thick. She cleared her throat, eyes darting everywhere but towards his figure beside her.

"Sansa?" He asked quietly, concern laced through his voice.

She looked down at her phone again, trying to push past the pain and move onto the next topic but she couldn't find anything else. She sighed.

"I've lost people too, you know."

Her eyes finally met his at the sound of his gentle voice. "Granted my mother died when I was so young that I don't remember her. And my father wasn't exactly the greatest dad… so I had mixed feelings about his passing."

Sansa nodded slowly, listening. Robb's passing was so different than either of those. "You don't have to tell me." He added, assuring her.

She blinked back her pain and took a deep breath. "My older brother, Robb, he-" her throat felt so _tight._ "He died last year."

Sansa didn't even realize Petyr had taken her hand until after she uttered out the truth. His hand was warm against hers and he squeezed tightly. She met his eyes, finding a cloud of sadness and understanding there.

"How did it happen?" He asked gently. She had never heard his voice so soft before.

She let out a shaky breath. "Some guy was hitting on his girlfriend at a bar. It escalated quickly and he fell during the fight… hit his head the wrong way."

Sansa was surprised when his hand rose from hers to stroke the side of her face, brushing the hair back. He found her hand again and held it comfortingly.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, his voice hoarse with emotion. She nodded.

"I'm sorry about your parents." She told him in reply and he smiled sadly, moving his hand away from hers again. Sansa wanted to pout at the loss of warmth that he had provided with such a small gesture. "Robb's death was the reason I moved here." She confessed, feeling more than vulnerable.

"Do you miss home?" He asked. She nodded immediately. She did miss home. She missed the ranch and the endless fields and all the trees, but most importantly she missed her family.

She took another long drink of wine. "Are we even, then?" She asked, wanting to change the topic.

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if amused. "Sure, sweetling." He replied, making Sansa's stomach -admittedly- flutter with butterflies.

"So… tell me something the media _doesn't_ know about Petyr Baelish." She requested, brows raised expectantly.

"I like to cook." He blurted out in that deep irish accent of his. The tips of his ears turning a nice shade of red as he let a small smile slip; clearly he had said the first thing that popped into his head.

"You do?" She asked, genuinely surprised from that admission, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I live alone so if I didn't teach myself to cook, I would either starve or eat shitty food." He paused to scratch at his goatee. "And as Marg has me on a strict diet and fitness routine… I don't have much of a choice."

He didn't seem happy with either excuse he used to justify his likeness for cooking. The fact that he lives alone seemed to make him sad, and the fact that the media cared so much about his body seemed to annoy him.

"Maybe you can make me dinner sometime." She suggested, trying to fight the blush that was sure to rise.

His eyebrow cocked up in surprise, but he didn't tease her and instead, only half-smiled. "What a good boyfriend I'm beginning to be." He joked and she laughed, finishing her wine and placing the empty glass beside his.

"What kind of fitness routine do you have?" She asked in curiosity.

He sighed, looking a little irritated. "A run every morning and a protein shake followed by this ridiculous workout that literally _hurts._ " Then he smirked, looking like he was up to no good. "I always do the run and drink the shake, but… well I usually skip the workout."

Sansa smiled, amused. "I like to run." She admitted. "At home I ride, but after I moved here and couldn't ride horses any longer… I found I had a lot of leftover energy."

"I've never ridden a horse before." He told her truthfully. "Maybe on some days, after you've stayed the night, we could run together?" It was the first time Petyr Baelish looked shy -nervous- in front of her.

"I'd like that." She smiled. Then, "do you know when I'll be spending nights here?"

He thought about her question for a moment. "Probably in a little while. Once our relationship is out there to the world." She nodded in understanding. "Sansa… I know that at times some things may seem a little awkward. Uhm, I'm going to try to not make it too bad for you."

Sansa flushed in embarrassment as a picture popped into her mind of him kissing her and holding her hand in public. "Thank you." She said, trying to hide her blush.

"In saying that… we will later be expected to hold hands and y'know, act like a couple… kiss, at times." He told her slowly, as if the conversation was awkward and embarrassing for him as well. She assumed that it probably was.

"Yes, I know." She replied quietly, thinking _we went over this when I signed the contract._

"I just thought… I mean it's totally up to you but-"

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to get the first awkward kiss out of the way when we aren't in front of cameras and hundreds of people." He finally blurted out and her eyebrows rose in surprise.

 _"Oh!"_ She exclaimed, feeling the need to cover her beet red face.

"We don't have to!" He quickly corrected. "Whatever makes you comfortable, sweetling. I just don't want to catch you off guard later. I obviously don't want it to seem like our first kiss." He explained.

Her cheeks were _burning._

"No, that… that sounds like a good idea." She assured him. "I just didn't really expect to-"

Petyr breathed a laugh as he covered his face with one of his hands. "This is weird, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin things."

Sansa laughed, breaking some of the awkward tension. "I'm fine with it… if you want to."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She confirmed and he nodded, suddenly looking like he didn't know what to do. He cleared his throat, biting his bottom lip as he smirked.

He shifted closer, meeting her eyes as he gently pushed a stray strand of auburn behind her ear. "You _did_ mean now, right?" He asked in jest and she rolled her eyes, licking her lips nervously.

"Just kiss me already."

His smirk widened as he leaned forward, his hand that had previously been caressing her jaw, pulled her closer to him. Butterflies erupted in her stomach the second their lips met.

His lips were warm and his kiss was sweet. Firm and long, but sweet nonetheless. It was only one kiss he took before he pulled back and grinned a little, showing off some dimples that she hadn't known existed.

"Well…" His voice was husky. "At least we don't have to worry about that any longer."

She smiled in return, biting the corner of her lips with one of her canines. "I suppose not." She agreed.

He let his hands drop from her face and moved backwards to create some space between them. He licked his lips purposely and then hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

"Are you wearing lip gloss? Or lip balm?" He asked teasingly as he licked his lips a second time. _Gods he had no idea what the sight of that tongue was doing to her._

"Honey mint, yes." She replied quietly and he smirked.

 _"Hmm,_ it tastes good."

She flushed, thinking _I'll remember that for next time._

"Well, anyway… we should probably get that Instagram post done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this kiss came fast... but the angst in this story will be more about meaningful acts than actually acts themselves. It's the heartacheeee.


	4. The Vulnerability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niceee long chapter for you guys.

Sansa felt light.

So light.

_ On top of the world _ , some might say.

Gosh, did she really have a crush of Petyr Baelish!? Like a stupid teenager?

She traced the seal of her lips with her index finger, imagining his lips upon hers. How warm he was. How close he was. How he tasted like fresh mint; had he chewed gum right before she got there? Was he planning on kissing her the whole day?

Sansa opened her phone after preparing for bed. She typed his name into Instagram and clicked the follow button, assuming she should probably be following her own boyfriend.

The picture he had posted was of their empty wine glasses with the flickering fire place in the background. He didn't add a caption, but it was obvious to anyone that he had spent the evening in a romantic setting drinking wine with someone. It was a tease… enough for people to get drawn in.

A notification popped up on the screen of her phone saying  _ Petyr Baelish requested to follow you _ . Admittedly, her heartbeat raced. Jesus… the guy had 712K followers. What's going to happen when her identity is leaked?

The picture he posted a little over half an hour ago already has thousands upon thousands of likes and comments.

_ Omg he's back!!😍😍 _

_ Will you be racing again soon? _

_ Do you really have a girlfriend!?!? _

_ Omg show us who she is already!!! _

_ Petyr Baelish I love you!❤ _

Sansa laughed as she scrolled through the comments. She couldn't exactly blame them for being excited for his sudden return to the world… he hadn't raced or done an interview or showed up at any press events or even posted on any social media page since the  _ incident. _ It had been over a year.

Sansa accepted his follow request, and then immediately felt self conscious… she should really go through her page and delete old photos.

Most of her posts were of her art or her friends and family. Luckily she didn't have any embarrassing selfies or anything like that, so she didn't delete much.

_ Petyr Baelish liked your photo. _

Sansa eyebrows rose in surprise. She clicked on the notification to see what picture he had liked.

It was of her from late last year in a dark green bikini, her hair tied back in a long ponytail. She was smiling with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side.

He had clearly scrolled through her feed to find it. She rolled her eyes thinking, _ out of all the pictures on my feed, he likes the one of me half naked. _ Typical.

His feed consisted mostly of his cars or pictures of the beautiful places he's been, the extravagant food he ate and of course… him in his light blue Busch sponsored racing outfit, adorned with dozens of other sponsors' logos. He looked so happy in those pictures. Especially the ones where he held a large trophy above his head as he sat upon the top of his race car.

Admittedly, he looked very handsome when he smiled like that. He looked like someone that  _ any  _ girl would swoon over.

_ Mum: Hi, hunny, how's your day been? _

She thought of something, then…

When was she supposed to tell her family and friends about her and Petyr? Gosh, she'd have to lie to them too.

She immediately texted the group chat with both Petyr and Margaery.

_ Sansa: Hi, I just remembered I would have to tell my friends and family about this. When should I do that? When everyone knows my identity, or…? _

Margaery responded quickly with,

_ You can tell them now. I would assume they would expect to hear such news from you instead of the internet. _

Sansa responded with an  _ okay! _ Before shooting her mother a text.

_ Sansa: Hey mum… I have something to tell you, actually. _

_ Mum: New job or new man? _

Sansa laughed, smiling, as she thought  _ well, both. _

_ Sansa: Man… _

She could picture her mother gasping and then showing whoever was near her what Sansa had sent.

_ Mum: Eeeek!! What's his name? What's he like? _

Here goes nothing.

_ Sansa: Well… uh… his name is Petyr. _

_ Sansa: Petyr Baelish. _

Sansa was left on read for quite a long time. She began to worry, realizing how bad -and public- Petyr's reputation was now. Surely it wouldn't be something she would approve of.

_ Mum: Like… the racecar driver that crashed last year? _

_ Sansa: Yes. _

_ Mum: Oh! _

_ Mum: Wow. _

Sansa bit down on her bottom lip anxiously.

_ Sansa: I know! Haha. I don't really know how it happened. _

She lied, feeling bad.

_ Mum: Well, what's he like? _

Sansa decided to talk about how he was with her today as opposed to the other times they spoke.

_ Sansa: He's very sweet. Romantic as well. I know what the internet and tabloids say about him, but trust me, he's nothing like that. _

Well… he was a bit of an ass sometimes. Bitter forsure. But he  _ was _ sweet at times. Romantic too.

_ Mum: Well that's great! When can I meet him? _

Sansa froze. If her and Petyr date for  _ months _ like she figured they would, it would be odd if he didn't meet her family. But how was she possibly supposed to pretend in front of them!?

_ Sansa: I'm not sure! Maybe we could go there at some point. _

She replied, hoping her mother wouldn't push it too much and her and Petyr's arrangement will be finished before her family becomes too curious.

She talked to her mother for a little while longer, later receiving messages from her siblings about her new boyfriend as well, before she was able to get any sleep. She spoke with Jeyne over the phone, too, who squealed and asked her a million questions.

* * *

It was about a week and a half later that Sansa found herself at his house once again. This time, however, she was told to bring a swimming suit.

The idea of being mostly naked in front of both a camera  _ and _ a rich famous guy was nerve-racking to say the least.

She was currently in his bathroom tying a bow in the back of her swimsuit and making sure to double knot it so no embarrassing accidents happen. It wasn't the most glamorous swimsuit out there, she noticed as she looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair was down and in loose curls as she kept adjusting her bottoms. It was a simple black bikini that hugged her curves nicely.

She took a brief look around his marble bathroom, thinking how it looked as if it were plucked straight from a home-improvement magazine. Did he have someone come and clean for him? Or was he just naturally a very clean person?

Sansa shook her head, knowing they were probably wondering what was taking so long at this point. She glanced over herself once more before rolling her shoulders back and trying to act as calm as possible.

It admittedly took her a moment to find her bearings in his house again, walking through various rooms and hallways until she found the entrance to the backyard. She pulled open the door and blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden light.

She could immediately feel the tension in the air, even before she heard Petyr yelling or she saw the anger on his face.

"Margaery  _ no!" _ He exclaimed heatedly, jaw clenched tightly as he glared at her.

"Petyr, it is the  _ next step! _ The world needs to see-"

"Fuck that!" He shouted, spinning around and marching away.

He was dressed in dark blue swim shorts and a white t-shirt. Sansa felt the need to go after him, so she stepped past an annoyed Margaery to follow him further into his backyard.

She passed a lounge chair that held two towels, sunglasses, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She scooped down to grab the latter two of the objects, hoping she could use it as a peace offering.

_ What had Margaery asked of him that made him so angry? _

She followed him into the thick garden where she paused momentarily at all the twists and turns. It was like a small maze, the tall sunflowers and bushes blocked Sansa's sight from both the pool and Petyr.

She continued again, taking two left turns before finding him again. He was standing in an oak pergola that had dark green vines threaded and twisted in the wooden beams. His back was to her as he faced a small pond where dozens of lily pads floated on the shallow water's surface.

"Margaery, I'm serious. Fuck off." He said harshly without turning to look at her. She stepped closer, biting her bottom lip as she came to his side. His hands were gripping the railing and his shoulders were as tense as they could be.

She didn't say anything, just held his pack of cigarettes towards him in offering. He looked down at her hand before his eyes moved over to the rest of her.

"Oh." He said quietly. "Sorry. I thought…" He trailed off as he accepted the pack and plucked one from the box, placing it between his teeth.

She offered him the lighter next and he accepted that, too, lighting the stick between his lips and then breathing in deeply. She couldn't help but tell how shaky his hands were.

He sighed long and slow through his nose before taking another long drag of the cigarette. Sansa never liked being around people when they smoked, but she had to admit that there was something calming and almost soothing being around Petyr as he smoked. Maybe it was how quickly it calmed him, or how classic and almost retro he looked at he took purposeful drags and then blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth so it didn't cloud her completely.

"Are you okay?" She asked cautiously, looking across to the treeline at the end of his property and admiring the dark green that stood out so boldly there.

He breathed a bitter laugh as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. She cringed slightly, feeling a little out of her element as she tried to make him feel better.

"You don't have to do this, Sansa. It's not a part of your contract." He told her, making her wrap her arms around her mostly-bare body protectively. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the smokes."

"What happened?" She asked gently, choosing to ignore his previous comments entirely.

He hadn't looked at her yet. Barely turned his head to the side at all. His eyes remained straight forward this entire time.

"She asked me to take my shirt off and get in the pool." He told her simply and she frowned slightly in confusion, wondering why that was such a big deal.

"Are you… self conscious or something?" She asked hesitantly, not wanting him to snap back at her for not understanding.

He finally turned towards her, eyes cold and hard. "Would you be self conscious about  _ this?" _ As he said it, his hand moved down to the hem of his shirt and he pulled it up to his collarbone, exposing a thick, puckered scar that ran down from just under his collarbone, past where his shorts began. It was huge and clearly it had been a deep wound. It was white and slightly shiny in the sunlight.

She felt a gasp escape her lips and her eyes unwillingly widened at the sight. His shirt dropped and he looked away again. She was only partially aware of the fact that her hand came up to cover part of her mouth in shock.

"That reaction is exactly why I don't want my chest all over the internet." He said bitterly and she instantly felt awful for not controlling her emotions well enough.

"Oh! No, Petyr!" She exclaimed, resting her hand gently on his bicep. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's  _ fine _ , Sansa. I didn't expect anything else."

He spun around and walked away, throwing the rest of the cigarette into the garden.

She hurried after him, but admittedly stayed a little behind on purpose due to the fact that she had  _ no idea _ how to make him feel less self-conscious.

"I'll take it off, but I don't want the scar in the picture. Not yet." Petyr told Margaery sternly.

She looked unimpressed with his finale decision, but nodded anyways. He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside, easing himself into the chilly pool. Sansa followed suit, descending slowly into the cooler temperature water.

She could tell that he was still quite upset as he swam toward the further side of the pool where the water deepened substantially. Sansa, not being the most graceful swimmer, stayed where she could reach.

As he swam away from her, she admired his bare back and the way his muscles worked and rippled, the curves of his back stuck out in all the right places. Sooner than she would have liked, his back was turned away from her and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was coming back towards her and she was still dumbly staring at him. She blushed a little and looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Alright, Jojen… are you all set?" Margaery asked the young blond and he nodded in response, backing up partially into part of Petyr's garden so it didn't look staged.

"Okay, Sansa's back is going to be facing the camera, and only  _ half _ of Petyr's front will be seen." She told them smartly, rolling her eyes at the last bit. Petyr ignored her jape completely and took a step closer to her.

"You're going to have to be closer than that." Margaery snapped, frustrated from her earlier argument with Petyr. She was clearly annoyed at his vulnerability, which made Sansa feel quite sympathetic for him.

"Let's just make her happy and get this over with." Petyr told her, reaching his hands out to hover over her sides. "Can I touch you here?"

She looked down to where his hands skimmed the bare skin of her waist, near her hip bones, beneath the water. She nodded, slightly confused as to why he had asked. Was he actually that much of a gentleman? She supposed it probably would have been rude for him to just man handle her while she was so bare without asking first (not that she'd really mind either way).

He placed his hands firmly above her hips and drew her closer to him so their chests pressed together.

"Hmm." Margaery puckered her lips in thought as she watched the two of them. "No, you look awkward. Sansa, could you wrap your legs around him?"

Sansa blanked for a second.  _ Wrap her legs around him? _ Margaery wanted Sansa to wrap her  _ bare _ legs around his  _ bare  _ waist?

"Oh… uh, sure." She replied, not able to meet his eyes as she moved her hands to his shoulders and slowly brought herself up, legs wrapping around him.

She was surprised at the way he didn't even flinch as she latched herself to him. He was stronger than he looked.

"Where do you -ah- want my hands?" He asked her quietly so Margaery couldn't hear and answer the question herself.

Normally in such a position, the man (or whomever it was being hugged in such a way) would place their hands on the other person's behind. Her  _ ass. _

She bit her bottom lip before coming up with: "My legs? Or hips?"

He nodded, emotionless as he rested his hands on her hips, holding her tightly against his lower abdomen. Her stomach fluttered about nervously from being so close… so  _ intimate. _

He slowly floated around the more shallow end of the pool, hands moving down to her thighs, close to her knees, and he rubbed her leg soothingly. It felt to Sansa like a small massage.

"Okay that's better." Margaery told them affirmatively, walked over to the photographer who was currently setting up a tripod and moving it around through the bushes and flowers.

"Petyr?" She questioned quietly and his eyes finally found hers for the first time since they got in the pool.

"I  _ am _ sorry for reacting the way that I did."

He looked away again, trying to hide the pain that Sansa saw clouding his green eyes. She looked down at his chest. The water was only a few inches above his belly button, which meant Sansa's entire back was out of the water and in view of the cameras. It also meant she could see most of his scar, except for where their bodies were connected, of course.

Upon second glance, it wasn't as gnarly as she originally thought it was. It was horrific, yes, and it looked like something that would still cause him physical pain even now. But it was in no way  _ ugly  _ or gross. In fact, Sansa thought it made him look tough and dangerous… mysterious and rugged… she maybe even found it kind of… attractive?

Yes, she did.

Sansa's eyes then looked beyond the scar. He had a light dusting of hair across the top of his chest, as well as a trail leading down from his bellybutton. His stomach was flat and from the feeling of it,  _ firm. _ He was a slim man, that was for certain, and not terribly muscular, but definitely not non muscular, either. He was clearly good with his hands if he was a racer and, by the looks of his garage, he repaired his own cars as well.

It was the same with his pecks. They didn't stand out all that much, but they were just as firm as his abdomen, if not more so. His shoulders were broad and led down to muscular arms. His biceps were no where near those of her father's… but they were certainly nicely shaped to match the rest of his body. He was definitely in good shape.

The fingertips of one of her hands found the top of his puckered scar and he flinched, eyes immediately finding hers. His eyes held no warmth or kindness. They were hard and cold and… insecure? Vulnerable? Embarrassed?  _ Ashamed? _

He blinked a few times, clearing the emotions from his eyes so she could stop reading him so easily. "What are you doing?" He asked, voice sharp.

She bit the corner of her lip as she trailed her fingers down an inch and then another. "Does it still hurt?"

He didn't respond for a long moment. The tense air, thick between them. "Sometimes." He offered, licking his dry lips as his eyes bored into hers.

One of his hands moved from her leg to her hand where it rested halfway down his chest. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and moved her hand away. She frowned, not knowing how to fix the hurt that she had caused him: the embarrassment.

"I understand being self conscious about something like that. And I couldn't imagine the kind of memories that the sight of it brings back…" She started. Petyr huffed, as if wishing he could be anywhere but with her right now. "But if you think others find it-"

"Sansa,  _ please." _ He interrupted, eyes hard. "I'm not  _ blind. _ It's ugly; disgusting."

"It isn't, though!" She exclaimed hastily, hands clasping together behind his neck to hold him closer to her, forcing his eyes to remain on hers.

"I was just shocked at how big it was. How deep it was!"

He suddenly smirked, looking to the side and trying hard to fight back his amusement.

"What?" She asked, confused as to how his mood could change so drastically so quickly.

"Oh nothing." He replied, face turning serious again. "I just had a strong urge to say  _ that's what she said _ . _ " _

She gaped at him for a second, feeling her cheeks heat up a little.  _ Such a guy. _ She slapped his shoulder, producing a light chuckle from him.

"It isn't ugly." She said seriously after a pregnant pause. His eyebrows rose slightly, disbelieving of the things she was saying. "Really, Petyr. It's kind of…"

"Yes?"

"Hot?" She offered, blushing under his raised eyebrow and half-a-smirk. He seemed to be cheered up from earlier.

"You think I'm hot?" He asked, narrowing his eyes playfully at her.

"I said, I think the  _ scar _ is hot." She clarified, avoiding the question entirely. He chuckled again, arms tightening to pull her closer against him.

"Hm, the  _ scar." _

His face pressed into the crook of her neck to hide his grin, and he breathed in deeply, making her stomach flutter uncontrollably. He pulled away, looking down blatantly at her chest.

"You look good in a bikini. Have I said that yet?" He told her, eyes reluctantly leaving her chest to find her eyes again. She rolled her eyes, faking annoyance as she looked to the side.  _ "Really _ good." He added as his voice dropped an octave, making her suck her bottom lip in between her teeth.

She felt, very suddenly, very hot. Overwhelmingly hot. Her almost bare body was pressed so close against his… it was too much. His presence was too much: his body, his gaze… everything.

She felt her heart beating blood through her body at a rapid pace. Her throat suddenly very dry.

"Okay, perfect. We got a few good ones." Margaery announce, making Sansa jump slightly. Had she really forgotten that they weren't alone?

Petyr's hands moved to her hips as he began walking the two of them to the edge of the pool. "Uh… sweetling?" He questioned and her confused eyes met his. He seemed amused.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear so the other two people wouldn't hear:  _ "You can get down now, love." _ He gave her hips a gentle squeeze.

Her eyes widened, slightly horrified, as she detached herself from him, sliding down to stand on her own two feet. "Sorry." She mumbled, mostly to herself as she escaped from his presence and pulled herself out of the water.

Both Petyr and Sansa dried off before she scurried off to the bathroom to change into a pair of shorts and a soft orange t-shirt. Her hair thankfully hadn't gotten wet and so it remained neat and curly down her shoulders and back.

When she exited the bathroom, she followed the sound of voices through the halls until she found herself in the kitchen with Petyr, Margaery and Jojen. Petyr had also changed: a blue button up shirt and a pair of denim capri pants, which were rolled up at the bottom.

Petyr was leaning over the marble countertop of his island on his elbows as he flipped through pictures on a laptop. Sansa came up to stand beside him, the other two people in the room were discussing something that Sansa didn't even care to listen to.

He was deleting any picture that showed off his scar, which were a lot of them. Though some were taken at just the right angle that his entire face was in view, but his chest was blocked by her shoulder or arm.

"Marg is letting us choose." Petyr announced, directing his comment to Sansa. "I like these three." He offered up as he found the three pictures and flipped through them.

All of them were generally the same. Sansa's entire back in view, as well as her auburn hair, and Petyr's face. The way he was holding her close… there was no doubting they were romantic: a  _ couple. _ Every picture had a blurred leaf or flower in the foreground of it, to make it seem like a sneaky picture stolen from a distance.

The only thing that really changed between each of the three photographs was Petyr's expression. In the first one, he was all serious, as if what they were discussing was important. The second one he was looking away as he bit his lip… he looked embarrassed. And then the third -her heart skipped a beat at the sight- he was grinning widely, showing off his teeth as he looked at her.

"That one, forsure." She said, pointing to the last one he flipped to.

"Yeah?" He asked with raised eyebrows. She nodded affirmatively.

"Okay love birds," Marg started as she looked up from her cellphone. "I want another picture up on Thursday. Can you make that happen? I don't care what it is… just not her name or face."

Petyr nodded and Sansa copied the action. "Perfect. Well I'll see you two at a later date. Petyr, don't forget your-"

_ "-Therapy.  _ I know."

"Right." Margaery turned to Sansa. "I have your first cheque!" She handed a white envelope with Sansa's name on it and waved goodbye. Her and Jojen left together.

Sansa tucked the envelope away in her purse, which also held her swimsuit. She looked back up to find Petyr watching her with crossed arms. She raised a curious eyebrow as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked down and then away.

_ What was that? _

"Was there something else that you needed?" He asked bluntly and Sansa understood that that was her cue to leave.

She twisted her mouth awkwardly, wishing he hadn't ruined the moment with his rudeness. Without saying goodbye, she stepped around him and found her way to the door.

She was halfway to her car before she heard the door open behind her.

"Sansa!"

She spun around to see him jogging over to her, the pebbles crunching under his feet. He stopped a few feet away from her and suddenly looked nervous.

"I -uh- wanted to thank you for earlier." He admitted, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips.

She tilted her head to the side in question, so he elaborated further. "I was upset and embarrassed and… I'm not used to people being genuinely concerned about me. I know I can be an asshole… I guess I'm just trying to say that I appreciate you trying to make me feel better."

Sansa didn't know how to respond, not expecting such a confession from him. She opened her mouth to respond in kind, but nothing came out.

He looked down, embarrassed, before clenching his jaw and shaking his head a little, as if disappointed in himself. "Anyway… I'll text you about the details for our next meeting in a day or so."

He didn't meet her eyes as he uttered it, turning and leaving immediately after with his head hung slightly.

She felt bad for making him even more embarrassed about thanking her, but she didn't know what to say to him at that moment. So she chose to say nothing, which seemed to bother him greatly.

She left before she did something stupid, speeding down his street to get far away from his house. Today had been a whirlwind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing this chapter.
> 
> Thoughts so far on this story?


	5. The Second Post

"And have you two…?" Jeyne asked with a wide grin on her face, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Sansa blushed, picturing a scenario like that in her mind. "Not yet." She admitted truthfully.

"Why not!?" Jeyne exclaimed rather loudly, the wine really seeming to get to her.

"We're just…" She shrugged, hating that she had to lie to her best friend. "Taking it slow."

Jeyne topped off her glass for the third time before popping another chocolate in her mouth. "That's probably the smart thing to do… make him wait for it!"

"Exactly!"

Both women laughed before Jeyne pressed a hand to her stomach in an attempt to calm down a little.

"Enough about me, though. How's it going with Joffrey? Broke up with his lying-ass yet?" Sansa asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her and Petyr.

Jeyne sighed, her whole body language shifting as her expression saddened. "No. I just care about him too much! And everytime I try to break up with him, it's like he senses it, because he does something super sweet and affectionate."

"Yeah but Jeyne, that doesn't change all the horrible things he does and says to you on a daily basis." Sansa reasoned.

"I know! I know that, but..." She groaned. "I just wish he was the Joffrey I fell in love with all the time, y'know?"

Sansa nodded, trying to be understanding for Jeyne's sake. Sansa enjoyed having these nights with her bestfriend where they just forgot about responsibilities and worries and just had some fun as they gossiped about this or that. It was very relaxing to Sansa.

"Where'd you two meet anyways?" Jeyne asked, seemingly trying to pull herself out of a sour mood. Sansa relented, knowing that it would be easier for her to lie about her 'new' relationship than it would be for Jeyne to tell the truth about her's.

Sansa opened her mouth but then hesitated for a moment until she decided that the truth was an acceptable response in this case. "A coffee shop."

"Oh, really? And how did you two start talking? Tell me everything!"

It was the first time that she'd really gotten together with Jeyne since she told her about Petyr, so she was expecting all the questions. Though she wasn't expecting _this_ many; an hour later she still found herself talking about him.

"Those pictures that he posted were _so_ cute!"

"Yeah, they were." Sansa agreed as she grabbed a handful of chocolates.

"Are you over there often?" She asked next. Sansa could tell that her friend was _quite_ tipsy at this point because of her giddy smile and red cheeks.

"Once or twice a week." She shrugged.

"And you _haven't_ shagged yet!?"

Sansa rolled her eyes jokingly. "He's a gentleman. He never lets us get into situations where there's a possibility that I could feel any pressure. Even when we're making out on the couch, he never tries to remove my clothes or move us upstairs."

"God's, Sansa… you need to keep that man." Jeyne said, half teasingly and half serious. "Oh! You should call him!"

"Ah… no. He's probably busy." She hastily replied but she knew Jeyne wasn't one to give up easily -especially while intoxicated.

Her face fell in disappointment. "Busy doing _what?_ It's almost 11pm! C'mon, Sans! Shouldn't I meet this man if he's making you so happy?"

She had a point there… if it were anyone else, Jeyne would have already met him. Sansa sighed. "One phone call." She surrendered.

Jeyne squealed as she moved beside Sansa on the bed, fussing over her hair. "What are you doing?" Sansa asked cautiously and Jeyne tilted her head questioningly to the side.

"You're gonna video chat him, right?"

"No, a phone call." Sansa said sternly, but when her friend looked more than a little disappointed, she gave in again. _"Fine,_ Jeyne."

Sansa self-consciously fixed herself, hoping she didn't look too bad, and called him. It rang a few times and Sansa suddenly thought he wouldn't answer, but as soon as the worry crossed her mind, his face popped up on her screen.

Jeyne squealed again, to Sansa's embarrassment.

"Sansa?" He questioned and Sansa stealthily gestured with her head to the woman sitting beside her. He seemed to understand because he smiled charmingly and added: "It's nice to see you, sweetheart."

_"Sweetheart!"_ Jeyne repeated beside her, _aww-_ ing.

"Hey, Petyr. My friend Jeyne wanted to meet you." She greeted in return.

He must have shifted because his camera moved down slightly to show Sansa his dark grey sheets and light grey comforter. He was in _bed._ God have mercy.

His face came back into view and he grinned again. "Hello Jeyne. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." He replied politely.

"Likewise!" Jeyne exclaimed, a little too excitedly. Petyr breathed a laugh as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Are you two drinking?" He asked.

Jeyne bursted out laughing and Sansa rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but laugh along as well.

"I'll take that as a yes."

There was an awkward silence between them as Jeyne calmed down from the laughing and Sansa thought of what to say next. Should she just hang up?

"So, _Petyr,_ we're really very curious as to why you haven't gotten down and dirty with Sansa yet? Hmm?" Jeyne blurted out unexpectedly and Sansa eyes just about popped out of their sockets.

_She definitely should have hung up._

"Jeyne!" Sansa hissed.

"Sorry, what?" Petyr asked as he chuckled, his hand coming into view as he scratched at his stubbly chin.

"Petyr, I'm sorry. Jeyne's had too much wine-"

"Don't apologize." He started, voice calm and collected as he played along. "It's a valid question."

She wondered where he was going with this…

"You see, Jeyne… even though your friend is absolutely irresistible-" Sansa felt her cheeks flame bright red. "I'm quite old fashioned. I only take that step in relationships when I feel the timing is right."

Sansa didn't know what to say, so she just sat there quietly as she blushed harder than ever. Jeyne couldn't stop _aww_ -ing them, saying over and over how cute and sweet he is.

Petyr said goodnight to them both a little while later and Sansa had to hear about how _attractive_ and _adorable_ and _charming_ her new boyfriend is.

* * *

Sansa was busying herself with cleaning her small studio apartment when her phone buzzed, interrupting the music she was streaming from in. She rubbed the side of her face tiredly with the side of her arm to avoid getting cleaning chemicals in her eyes, and walked over to the table where her phone sat.

_Petyr: Margaery changed her mind about when she wants the post up by and she was wondering if you were busy tonight._

Sansa sighed, knowing she'd have to have another shower and get ready for the day all over again because she had been cleaning.

_Sansa: I can come over tonight. Can you give me an hour?_

_Petyr: Sure._

Sansa finished up with the windows and then hopped in the shower to scrub the grime of the day from her body.

She decided on a pair of black tights with a simple, casual-looking black dress to match. She left her hair down and because she allowed it to dry naturally as she made herself some toast to eat as a poor excuse for dinner, it became a little curly.

She was at his place a little under an hour later, and he greeted her with a small -fake- smile. He was dressed the most casual she has ever seen him. He was in jeans and a black V-neck henley shirt that showed off the top of his scar. She wondered, with a faint smile, if he felt more comfortable around her and that was the reason he was wearing a shirt that showed off the scar he's so afraid to show to the world.

"How have you been?" He asked.

It had only been two days since they last spoke, but Sansa played along to be polite. "I've been alright. You?"

He breathed a bitter laugh, as if he was realizing how ridiculous their pointless conversation sounded. "Splendid." He replied sarcastically.

"Can I get you anything?" He added, but she declined and found her seat next to him on the couch. She couldn't help but remember what occured between the two of them the last time they sat here. She felt her cheeks heating, so she looked away out the window.

He had set the fireplace again, but there wasn't any music playing, nor was there wine to ease her anxiety. Though, he _had_ offered to get her whatever she wanted.

"Your hair looks nice like that." He unexpectedly complimented her. Her eyebrows rose slightly in surprise before she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"Ah, thank you. I didn't actually do anything to it." She admitted, making the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

He was so hard to read. One second he was cold and closed off and the next he was sweet and playful. She had no idea whether she liked him or hated him because his personality seems so up and down all the time. Was he like this before the crash? Or did the crash change him?

"So this is it naturally?" He asked, pointing his finger at her hair and then waving it around in lazy circles to show he was talking about all of it. She nodded affirmatively and the corner of his lips pulled up even higher. "Why would you ever do anything to it when it dries so beautifully?"

"Flattery, Petyr?" She teased, making him grin as he looked down for a moment.

"Perhaps." He replied when his eyes daringly met hers again, an eyebrow raised challengingly.

She let the moment pass, choosing to move onto a safer topic of conversation. "So what did you have in mind for the post tonight?"

His expression faltered for a second before he recovered. "Well I had an idea… but now after seeing your hair, I have a better one."

She couldn't believe she agreed to it.

The thought made her blush madly.

Her head in his _lap._

She closed her eyes to try and fight back the burning in her cheeks, but it didn't subside for a second.

"That's good, just like that." He drawled in a deep voice and she bit her tongue _hard._ He was _such a tease!_

Was he just being playful, or was he really trying to seduce her? Because with a suggestion like his and the way he was flirting… it seemed a lot like he _was_ trying to seduce her. And _gods, was it working._

He was sitting as he originally was on the couch, but had instructed her to lay down with her head in his lap, face (thankfully) pointed towards the fireplace instead of his groin. Her hair obstructed her face, so people could only see a small strip of her pale skin… the rest was auburn waves. The fireplace created a romantic setting, just like the last photo. It was so calming… if Sansa's body wasn't _very much awake_ , she would be at risk of falling asleep.

He was moving locks of her hair around so it looked exactly how he wanted before she felt his abdomen stretch to take a picture from a higher angle.

"Hmm, try this." He said aloud as he reached for her hand and rested it on one of his thighs so she looked even more relaxed and comfortable.

He took another picture before humming in approval. "Yeah this one's good."

She reluctantly lifted her head from his lap for good to get a look at the picture.

And she had to admit… It was pretty cute. She looked like she was fast asleep, cuddling up to her boyfriend.

"Now for the caption…" He thought aloud as he started typing. "How's this?"

_Sleepy angel._

The young part of her _loved_ his caption.

"Quite the cheesy romantic, Petyr." She teased and he chuckled lightly, shrugging innocently.

"What can I say…" He smirked mischievously. "You bring it out in me, sweetling."

She rolled her eyes in amusement as she reached over to press _share_ on the screen of his phone. It was ridiculous how quickly so many likes and comments came through.

"Oh, by the way… I recently got a bunch of new followers with the name _Stark._ I'm assuming…" He trailed off, as she nodded.

"Yepp, those would be my siblings."

"Ah, thought so." He replied. "How do they feel about us?" He looked reluctant to know the answer, as if he expected it to be bad.

She pursed her lips as she contemplated her answer. "They were surprised, but… Petyr, they aren't judgemental. They understand that the media can twist things and blow them out of proportion. They're happy for me."

He nodded, looking pleased with her response. "I'm glad." He told her truthfully.

"Also... I'm sorry about the other night. Jeyne was very persistent and kept asking all these questions and-"

"Really, Sansa... it's fine. It was entertaining." He said with a knowing smirk. Sansa huffed as a grin broke across her face, thoroughly embarrassed.

"I don't know why she asked you that. It's not like we were really talking about it." She justified, chewing on the corner or her lips.

_"Mhm."_ He hummed disbelievingly and she rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, I'm sort of really tired-"

"Oh, yeah… okay, I'll get going then." She cut him off before he had to awkwardly ask her to leave. She stood nodding goodbye before leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... it's a short chapter... but that's because I want what happens next to be all in one chapter!
> 
> What'd you think about their next Instagram post? Pretty cute...


	6. The Gala

Her next job was unfortunately the charity gala that Petyr had told her about a couple weeks ago.

The internet has gone crazy with their relationship, which seemed to please Margaery greatly. It was now time they found out her identity, her name. The gala will be their first appearance as a couple and Petyr has warned her how overwhelming it will be to her.

She was currently in one of Petyr's guest rooms, getting pampered by hair stylists and makeup artists. The dress she wore was princess-like. It was a deep maroon with a sweetheart neckline. It trailed a little on the floor and had a large slit in the side to expose her leg. It was classy but also sexy and she certainly  _ felt _ important wearing it.

Her hair was half done up in braids and pinned with silver, sparkling clips. The parts that remained down were curled loosely. The tall blond haired man doing her makeup, his name was… Olyvar?... had only applied a light, natural-looking layer. He seemed to be the guy in charge of how she looked.

"Oh, yes… perfect!" He exclaimed happily as he walked around her. "Yes, yes… that boyfriend of yours will be very happy."

Sansa couldn't stop the nerves that flared up everytime she thought of what was to come. Would they like her? Slag her? Would this relationship (job) ruin any chance she has in the future to get a respectable job? Will it increase her chances of moving up in the world? Will she fall and humiliate herself?

Sansa swallowed thickly, trying hard to quell the pounding of her heart. Nothing helped her nerves when Margaery walked in the room with Petyr on her tail.

And he looked beautiful. Had she ever thought a man was beautiful before? He certainly was. He was dressed sharp in a soft blue suit, a light grey waistcoat and a maroon tie to match her, little elegant designs along his tie. It was uniquely stunning. His hair was groomed neatly to the side and his facial hair trimmed perfectly.

Then his eyes found her and he froze, his breath catching (or did she imagine that?). He took his time to look her up and down, soak up every inch of her.

Margaery was talking away but neither one of them were listening.

Olyvar giggled beside her before he clapped his hands together and Petyr's attention snapped back. "What do you think Mr Baelish?" He asked with a cheeky tone of voice.

No one but Petyr, Sansa and Margaery (and Jojen) knew about their arrangement… so Petyr and Sansa have to act the part in front of Olyvar and his employees.

He didn't look Sansa in the eye as he said: "I thought  _ I  _ looked good."

There was something real about it and Sansa found herself smiling. He walked over to her, finally meeting her eyes as he took her hands.

"You look stunning, sweetling."

Sansa could tell when he was acting and when he was being himself. He was acting now, though she did appreciate the compliment.

"Fuck, yeah she does!" Olyvar interrupted, grinning as he finished gathering his things.

"Yes, you both look great. Now lets go before we're late." Margaery rushed them out the door and into the limousine waiting for their arrival.

"Petyr-"

_ "I know, _ Margaery."

"Okay, okay. Just remember… you two are in love!" She said her final goodbyes before letting the driver take them away.

Suddenly all the chaos was over and it was just her and Petyr in the back of a very quiet, empty limousine. She swallowed thickly.

"You have no idea what it's going to be like there." He said, breaking the silence. "It's awful. People are so pushy and inconsiderate… I  _ loath _ paparazzi. The only thing keeping me going is knowing that they won't be let into the gala."

Sansa nodded along as he spoke, not wanting to say something that could possibly offend him. "And you know that once the media knows your name… you'll get harrassed like no tomorrow all over any social media that you own."

Sansa stayed silent. She didn't know what to say! She wasn't used to any of this.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a moment, looking at her with a concerned expression. He must be able to see how pale she's gone.

"I-I just… I'm a bit-"

"Scared?" He asked unexpectedly. She looked him in the eyes, nodding.

He nodded along with her, taking her hand with his comfortingly. He stroked her hand with the pads of his fingers.

"So am I. Trust me." He looked down at their hands. "I haven't been on the media's radar for over a year… and the small things that people have gotten from me have been bad, so I have a lot of charming to do." He paused, letting out a shaky breath. "A lot of pressure."

"You'll do just fine. You're a good speaker." She reassured, knowing he was mainly worried about the small speech he was asked at the last minute to do.

He nodded mutely.

"You really do look nice." He said suddenly, his hand still firmly grasping hers. She smiled in reply, squeezing his hand gently before letting go entirely.

"So do you." She said honestly, glancing down again at his attire. He looked  _ hot _ .

"Flattery, Sansa?" He teased, repeating her earlier words to him. She rolled her eyes as she laughed.

_ "Perhaps." _

He laughed this time, biting his bottom lip cheekily as he looked forward again. It seemed to ease the stress and tension for a few short moments.

Their chit chat was casual and comfortable for the half hour long drive to the event, both Sansa and Petyr's nerves increasing the closer they got.

Soon they reached the large, old school theater that was hosting the event and Sansa almost threw up at the sight of all the people and cameras crowded around the entrance. Sansa sneaked a glance Petyr's way and saw him taking a deep breath to try and calm himself.

"Here we go…" He muttered as he pushed open the door and stood.

There were large bulky men dressed in black with bluetooth earbuds coiling out of one ear. She assumed, by the way they held back the flock of people, that they were bodyguards meant to escort people to and from the building.

Petyr walked around the car to her side, thankfully, and opened her door for her, helping her out. The heels were tall and she made sure to step carefully around the car to not snag her dress or twist her ankle.

_ "Smile, sweetling." _ He whispered, a hand on her lower back as they walked across a long carpet lined with dozens and dozens or people on either side, eager to get the first picture of Sansa's face.

She tried her best to smile, while leaning into Petyr's touch, while walking gracefully… but it was all too much when people were yelling for their attention and cameras were flashing constantly like a strobe light.

Would they like her? Would they think she's pretty enough? Good enough for Petyr Baelish?

She was beyond relieved to have made it inside the theater in one piece. It was a short, maybe 10 meter walk from car to door, but it seemed to have lasted an eternity.

"Wow." Sansa breathed as she looked around. The lobby had a high ceiling where a large mural lay, so high up that Sansa had trouble making out what the painting was… but it was a renaissance style for sure. The art lover in her started to geek out at the sight of this architecture. There were engravings, along the stone walls and pillars: relief carvings. It was gorgeous. And to top it all off, an extravagant chandelier hung just above their heads.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Sansa's gaze was brought back over to Petyr. She smiled brightly.

"It's incredible."

Soon they were ushered into the actual theater, the room  _ full _ of people. Everyone was seated, talking to each other. They all seemed so  _ important. _ The rows of velvety seats were all pointed towards the large stage at the front, where a jazz band was playing as people found their seats.

Petyr offered his arm and she held on tightly to him while they descended the stairs together, hoping not to fall. They caught many people's attention as they found their seats at the very front. Soon the theater became quiet and Sansa shifted nervously as the lights dimmed and the band finished their song.

"Do I have to -ah- do anything?" Sansa whispered to Petyr, who looked even more nervous than she did.

"Stand up when they call my name and I'll probably kiss you if that's okay?" Sansa nodded along. "Besides that… no. Later we'll have to socialize a bit."

"I can do that." She said more to herself than to him.

A woman with striking blond hair dressed in a long black number walked on stage and smiled out at the audience. The crowd was silent now.

"Hello everyone! I'd like to thank you all for coming to raise money and awareness for the children in need." She started. A slideshow lit up behind her with pictures of young children in hospital beds and some in a third world country.

"These are some of the children that your money has helped, and some that are still in need of our assistance: our love and care.

We have been able to send medics and supplies to third world countries because of each and every one of you in this room today. We've flown handfuls of sick children here to care for them, because of you. And of course, we've gotten children off the street in our  _ own _ country and helped those less fortunate than us. And it's all because of your generous donations."

The crowd  _ awed _ when the screen flipped to a picture of a young boy heading back home while giving a thumbs up to the camera.

"Before we start with our auctions for the evening, I'd like to invite one of our consistent and very generous donors to come up here and say a few words." She said, making Petyr shift nervously again, his thumb tapping against his knee. She rested her hand over his and smiled encouragingly to try and comfort him a bit. "I understand that it's his first public appearance in a while, so let's all give Petyr a warm welcome."

The room erupted into applause and Petyr let out a shaky breath as he stood. Sansa followed suit and embraced him as he smiled down at her charmingly. He had that mask on again.

He gave her a brief kiss on the lips before leaving her to find the stairs of the stage. Sansa found her seat again and bit her bottom lip, sucking the taste of him from it before she remembered her lipstick and hastily stopped.

He kissed the woman on stage politely on the cheek before approaching the microphone.

And he was one hell of an actor, because if Sansa didn't know how anxious he was, she would have thought he was completely comfortable; in his element, even.

"Hi everybody." He said simply and the clapping slowly died off. "As Miss Targaryen said, this is my first appearance since the crash." The audience was silent. "I am honored to come back into the public's view with this as my first."

There was some brief clapping before Petyr started talking again. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm a racer" He nodded, smiling.

"Unfortunately I haven't been able to donate in the last year as I haven't been racing, but hopefully that will change in the coming months." He grinned, glancing at Sansa. His expression turned a bit grim: serious.

"Like all of you, I have my own reasons to be so involved with this organization and what they do in young people's lives: how they change them.

I've found that it's very easy to become privileged and forget what it was like to work hard for something in a world like this one. To wish for something desperately and to feel utterly hopeless. As many of you may know, my father was also a successful racer. However, I wasn't raised in a glamorous house with reliable role models in my life. I know what it's like to be out of options: to feel like the world is against you."

Sansa listened intently, like everyone else seemed to be. He looked to be genuine.

"I've seen a lot of horrors in my childhood and even lived through some of them. I've seen the way that society treats people that are less fortunate. I've met wonderful people -families- living on the street because they couldn't afford their treatments."

Sansa felt a tugging on her heartstrings as she listened, and with a quick glance to each side of her, others were feeling the same.

"So when I worked hard enough, _ failed _ enough times and finally started winning some races and getting some money back for it… I decided that I needed to do something good with it. After a while I didn't need anymore money, but I love to race, so as a compromise I decided to give my first place winnings to different charities. This organization in particular is my favourite, and the one that I donate to often, as all of you do.

I'm so happy to be involved here and with what this organization stands for and how it helps so many people and families. I'm also forever grateful for the beautiful woman I came here with this evening, who has pulled me back from the edge. Sansa Stark, you mean the world to me.

Thank you all for your attention and your continued generosity."

Sansa stood with everyone else and clapped him off the stage. He looked relieved when he finally made it to her and she kissed his cheek sweetly for show before everyone sat down together.

The hostess thanked Petyr for his words and then started the auction off. Sansa had a paddle rested in her lap for bidding, as did Petyr, but she didn't think he was very interested in buying anything today. She leaned towards him to speak more privately.

"Petyr, you did really well."

He flashed her a quick side smile and she returned it. "Thank you, sweetling."

"Was all that true?" She couldn't help but ask. His expression faltered slightly before he recovered.

"Yeah." And then he looked away and Sansa immediately knew she had crossed a line. He didn't want to talk about his past, apparently. It seemed to be a rather sore topic.

Later in the evening, the event moved into a smaller room with tables of food to eat and waiters handing out champagne to drink. It seemed like  _ everyone _ wanted to congratulate Petyr on his speech and his return, so Sansa found herself shaking many hands this evening.

Petyr stayed with her through almost all of it, except at one point when a man asked to speak with him alone. Sansa didn't like the idea of being left by herself, but luckily another man approached her immediately and she made small talk with him. He had dark hair like Petyr's but his eyes were a chestnut colour.

He seemed polite enough, though when Petyr returned his arm wrapped tightly around her and he narrowed his eyes on the stranger in front of them until he left. Was that jealousy? It sure felt like it.

There was a small jazz quartet in the corner of the room that consisted of a piano, bass, drums and a trumpet player. The vibe of the whole event was so elegant and authentic. Real jazz with fancy people and expensive champagne in an antique-looking ballroom. The floor was dark wood and polished beautifully, which matched the theme of the entire evening thus far. There were large windows that scaled from floor to ceiling along one wall, decorated with thick rose-coloured curtains. This room had not  _ one _ gorgeous chandelier, but  _ eight. _ And the ceiling of this room also held ornamental paintings and engravings.

The jazz quartet shifted into a slower song where the drummer used his brushes instead of sticks and the bass player used a bow as opposed to his fingers to pluck at the strings. A handful of couples, mostly far older than Sansa, began gathering on the dance floor.

Petyr shifted back a step, catching her attention. He smiled easily. "Would you like to dance, sweetling?"

Her eyes widened in both surprise and fear.  _ She'd have to dance in front of all these people? _ She turned to watch as older women were being swung around like professional dancers. Now, of course, Sansa knew they weren't doing anything  _ too _ advanced but with the little-to-no experience she has with dancing, they might as well be professionals.

Petyr's low chuckle brought her attention back to his smirking face. He leaned in close as he took her hand. "Breathe, love." He whispered as he pulled her towards the other dancing couples.

"No, Petyr I-" She hesitated, embarrassed. "I don't know how to do that."

"It's called a waltz and there's only one rule." He stated simply as he spun around to face her. He grabbed her one hand and set it over his shoulder while the other one was set in his own hand.

"...Pick a partner who knows what he's doing."

And then they were dancing. For the beginning, Sansa's eyes remained down as she watched her feet. She didn't want to trip or make a wrong step or twist an ankle of step on his feet or-

His thumb and index finger found her chin and he gently pulled her face up to his. He seemed amused.

"Is this okay?" She asked, meaning  _ am I doing okay? _

"Elegant as a swan, love." He replied, making her roll her eyes.

Luckily the song was so slow… it wasn't very hard to learn. If it were any faster, Sansa would have humiliated herself for sure.

He was a splendid dancer, though. It was clear he had a lot of practice as his moves were flawless and graceful and in turn even made  _ her _ feel graceful. She wondered where a racer would learn such an art? Was it all these events he went to?

He wouldn't let her look down, or even away from him for a moment. Every time she tried to look around them, his grip on her lower back and her hand would tighten until her eyes found his again. It was intoxicating to look into his eyes so deeply for such a long time. Speaking of, shouldn't this song end at some point? How long has it been?

When the song finally did end, she was aware of the eyes that fell onto her and Petyr. He seemed to have taken notice as well, because he fake smiled and then leaned down to brush his lips against hers. Her stomach gave an unwilling flutter as he pulled away.

"Thank you for the dance, Sansa." He said quietly before guiding her off the dancefloor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dancing scene is very much inspired by the Captainswan dancing scene in OUAT, for anyone who is familiar with that show.
> 
> Important chapter because not only is this Petyr's first appearance back in the public's eye since the crash, but it's Sansa's first appearance ever. They know her name & face, now!


End file.
